


College Age

by daydreamsonacloudyday



Series: Isabel Cousland [33]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: AU, College Age AU, Dragon Age AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:17:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1818202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamsonacloudyday/pseuds/daydreamsonacloudyday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of oneshots featuring Isabel Cousland and Alistair in a modern, college AU.<br/>(Started by others on tumblr, I'm just contributing.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabel and Alistair's first meeting.

Alistair was stuck teaching the 8 am class since he was the newest gym teacher, but despite the class being the first of the day, it had a decent amount of students enrolled in it—mostly women. He didn't understand why _anyone_ would want to be up at such an ungodly hour. Maybe women enjoyed waking up early to workout? Was that why _she_ came to the gym every morning?

He always got to the gym a half hour before class to set up for the day—turn the lights on, roll out the mats, take out various sports equipment—until one day, the lights were on when he arrived. Confused, he looked through the windows on the doors leading into the gym, finding a solitary figure inside. It was a woman. She had set up the archery targets at one end of the gym and stood at the other, firing off arrow after arrow from an expensive-looking compound bow, hitting the targets every time.

She moved with the fluidity and grace of someone who was well-trained, and Alistair found himself mesmerized by the sight. So he watched her.

When she finished, she pulled her arrows out of the targets and returned them to the quiver at her hip before lugging the targets back into the supply closet they were housed in. She made her way right towards him, and he froze like a deer in headlights. He probably should have _ducked_ , or _something_ for god's sake, instead of stupidly staring at her through the door's window—but he wasn't exactly known for his quick-wittedness in such situations.

Thankfully, she didn't notice him, flicking off the light switch to the left of the door he was standing behind. Before she was shrouded in darkness, he was able to finally get a good look at her. She was beautiful, her raven hair pulled up into a neat bun, not a flyaway hair in sight. She had the most striking green eyes, but he could have sworn they were filled with pain and sorrow. She just looked so… sad.

Alistair was so distracted by the mystery woman that he didn't realize just how much time had passed since he'd found her. The alarm on his wristwatch beeped, alerting him to the fact that he had ten minutes until the start of his class. That snapped him into action, and as soon as he was sure she had left the gym, he hurriedly got to work setting up for his class. He barely finished in time.

When he arrived the next morning, she was there again. He found himself watching her again. And he almost didn't finish setting up for his class _again_.

After a few weeks of wondering who the woman was, he did some investigating. He asked around about a woman fitting her description who was talented at archery and apparently had a set of keys to the gym.

Her name was Isabel. Isabel Cousland. She was the daughter of the two board members who had been killed in a violent car accident along with their oldest son. He remembered reading about it in the college paper a few days before she had shown up in the gym with her bow. Apparently one of the other board members was the one driving the car who hit her family, and there were rumors that he had been driving drunk. But nothing ever came of it.

That's why she looked so sad.

After finding out who _she_ —Isabel—was, Alistair decided he was going to talk to her. She was alone, and obviously in pain, and the least he could do was try and make her feel better, even just for a little bit. He knew what it was like not to have parents, after all.

He made his move the following morning when she was dragging the archery targets back to the supply closet. They were pretty heavy, and he was nothing if not a gentleman, so he approached her, lifting the other side of the target she was about to drag off.

It really wasn't his best idea, because he scared her half to death, her sharp scream piercing his ears. Alistair held his hands up in a defensive position, an apologetic look on his face. She brought her hand to her heaving chest, those green eyes wide with fear.

Fear wasn't exactly the emotion he was trying to elicit, but hey, it was better than pain and sorrow… right?

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, stepping back from him. "Who the hell are you?"

He lowered his hands and sighed, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "I'm Alistair. One of the gym teachers."

"Well, Alistair, you really shouldn't sneak up on people like that. Especially when they're in possession of _weapons_ ," she pointed out, lifting her other hand. He frowned when he saw she'd grabbed an arrow from her quiver, her fingers tightly gripping its shaft, the arrowhead pointing right at him. Not only did he scare her, he'd almost gotten himself stabbed… with an arrow. He would've had a _blast_ explaining that one to the other gym teachers.

"Right," he started. "Look, I'm sorry I scared you, I just—" Alistair promptly shut his mouth before he made himself look like even more of a fool. What was he going to say? That he'd been _stalking_ her for weeks? That he'd asked around about her instead of just asking her who she was and what she was doing in the gym every morning? That he wanted to know what her lips would look like when she smiled? Or that he wondered if her eyes could hold anything but sorrow in their depths?

"You just _what_?" She narrowed her eyes at him, but still seemed more relaxed now that she'd assessed he wasn't a threat… but he was still fumbling for words.

"You're very good at archery," he blurted out.

"I… thank you."

"My class later this week is going to focus on archery… maybe you could come? Give the students a proper lesson?" He definitely hadn't had an archery lesson planned, but he did _now._

She quirked a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him. "Aren't _you_ the gym teacher? Surely you know how to give a proper archery lesson if you planned a class on archery?"

"You make a good point," Alistair said with a chuckle, shooting her a lopsided smile. "But I'm afraid my skill with a bow nowhere near approaches yours. I would be honored to have such an expert teach my class."

She looked away from him, biting her lip and furrowing her brows while she contemplated his offer. She looked afraid again, but not startled like she was before. She seemed like she wanted to run away and never step foot in the gym again.

"I… I don't think that's a good idea. I—"

"Please?" he said, softly. Her green eyes met his again, and he felt like he was dealing with a frightened animal, not a woman who could probably put an arrow through his heart from across the gym.

She swallowed hard, nodding. "Okay," she breathed.

"It's this Thursday at 8 am."

"I guess I'll be there."

"Good. I look forward to it," he replied with a genuine smile.

The two stared at each other for a moment longer, until Alistair's wristwatch alarm beeped, startling them.

"I need to go," she said, quickly turning and grabbing her bow before scurrying away. She was halfway to the door when he regained his wits, and he just watched as she practically ran from the gym. She stopped right before the door, glancing back over her shoulder at him. He offered her another smile and a small wave, and she bit her lip again before finally turning and leaving the gym.

"Okay, then," he muttered to himself, a little baffled by the whole encounter. "That didn't go as planned." With a shrug, he started to put away the rest of the targets, then performing his daily routine of setting up the gym for his class.

The sound of feminine giggles alerted him to the fact that his students were arriving, and all thoughts of his mystery woman— _Isabel_ —were pushed to the back of his mind.

For now.


	2. Cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabel's night out with a friend doesn’t end as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Rosaia belongs to iflip4dolphins.

"I think we should go out tonight," Isabel declared.

"Mhm." Isabel frowned at Rosaia, whose gaze hadn't left the book in her hands. She plopped down on the couch next to her and tore the book away, effectively getting Rosaia's full attention. "I was reading that," she said.

"And now you're not," Isabel replied. "Like I was saying, we should have a girl's night. We can go to that new bar and flirt with guys so they buy us free drinks."

"You have a boyfriend," Rosaia pointed out.

"Yes, but _free_ _drinks_."

"You could buy the entire bar," the redhead retorted.

"That's not the point," Isabel said with a huff. "Look, do you want to go out, or do you want to stay here with your nose in that book the entire night?"

"I'm going to go with the book."

"Rosaia, you've already read it! Ned Stark and his friends will be waiting for you when we get back."

She let out an irritated sigh. "Fine, let's go."

Isabel excitedly shot up off the couch and grabbed her coat. She was a little nervous about the whole thing. She didn't really go anywhere unless Alistair dragged her out of her house, but she thought that it was time to finally venture out on her own volition. Rosaia would be there, anyway.

The redhead grabbed her keys and coat, and Isabel put herself between her and the door, holding a hand up to stop her.

"You're not going out like that, are you?" she asked, her eyes traveling over her friend's simple shirt and jeans.

Rosaia just glared at her. "We're going to a _bar_ , Isabel, not walking down a _runway_."

"But—"

"Just go get in the car, Izzy." Isabel bristled at the nickname, rolling her eyes as she made her way out of the dorm room. It was such a stupid nickname, and Rosaia _knew_ how much it bothered her to be called that. Funny how it never bothered her when Alistair said it…

Once the two of them got in the car, Isabel double-checked her and Rosaia's seatbelts to make sure they were buckled in properly. Once she deemed they were as safe as they could be, she let out a deep breath and nodded at her friend, who had patiently waited for her to assess everything. _One day_ she would be able to get into a car and not worry about bad things happening… but today was not that day.

They headed for the new bar that had opened up just outside of F.U.'s campus, turning the car's radio off after hearing the same few songs over and over again. The longer they drove, the more nervous Isabel grew. It was cold and dark, and the roads were probably covered in black ice—it was an accident waiting to happen.

Nervously biting her lip, Isabel glanced over to Rosaia, who was perfectly calm as she drove. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she muttered.

The redhead quickly looked to Isabel before returning her eyes to the road. "Do you want to go back?"

"Yes," she breathed, restraining herself from grabbing the handle right above the passenger door's window.

"Then we'll go back."

Isabel sighed in relief, but her anxiety was still through the roof. They were going back to the safety of Rosaia's dorm room, but they still had to _get_ _there_. "What part are you up to?"

"In _Game of Thrones_?" she asked, and Isabel nodded. Rosaia started telling her the story, and even though she was already familiar with it, she was grateful for the distraction. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest, listening to the smooth cadence of Rosaia's Irish accent as she tried to breathe evenly.

She started to relax, until Rosaia abruptly stopped speaking. At the sound of her gasp, Isabel's eyes flew open, just in time to see a blazing white light quickly approaching the driver's side of the car. A second later she was screaming as she was lurched sideways, pain exploding behind her eyes. Her vision blurred, and then everything faded to black.

…

Isabel awoke to the faint sound of voices and a blazing headache. Trying to focus around the loud thumping in her head, she tried to remember where she was and how she got there, when it suddenly came back to her.

 _She'd been in another car accident_.

A light shone over her, and she winced as she turned to the source. A firefighter was pointing a bright flashlight into her face as he was saying something to her. She tried to read his lips but couldn't, because he was upside-down—no, _she_ was upside down.

"… going to get you and your friend out, miss."

 _Rosaia_.

Isabel whirled her head around, blinking rapidly as the world around her spun. She caught a glimpse of Rosaia's red hair, but once her muddled vision started to clear, she saw that it wasn't her hair… it was her _blood_.

Isabel lost it. The sight of her unconscious friend held to her seat by only her seatbelt, her body just _dangling_ there, covered in blood, brought back memories of her previous accident. Her mind flooded with flashbacks from that horrible nightmare, and she broke down and cried.

Sobbing and wailing, she relived the night her family died, praying that the same thing didn't happen to Rosaia. She couldn't go through that again. She _couldn't_.

Isabel was too lost to her own grief and fear to pay much attention to what was going on around her. One minute she was still stuck in the car, and the next, she was pulled out of it and carried over to an ambulance. They pulled out Rosaia next, and the sight of her tiny body mangled and bloody and broken sent another wave of sobs through her. Her brother had looked the same way and he'd died on impact. She waited for them to confirm it, to place a sheet over her body the same way they had her brother's, but they didn't. Isabel let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as they loaded Rosaia into an ambulance to get her to the hospital.

She was still alive… for now.

Isabel fought against the paramedics trying to attend to her, desperate to get to Rosaia before her ambulance left. They told her to sit down and stop struggling, but she didn't listen, screaming at them before limping over to the ambulance and demanding to ride with them.

She sat back and watched as the paramedics tried to save Rosaia's life, all the while remembering how they'd tried to do the same thing for her parents. Isabel could barely breathe, her breaths coming in short gasps and pants, tears streaming down her face as she stared at her friend through fuzzy vision.

When they arrived at the hospital, the paramedics rushed Rosaia inside, Isabel hobbling along after them. The bright lights and loud commotion of the emergency room made her head hurt even more, but she tried to shake it off. She _had_ to stay with Rosaia until she knew she was going to be okay… _if_ she was going to be okay…

"Are you all right?" a nurse asked.

"I'm fine," Isabel muttered, trying to push past the nurse. "I need to get to my friend—"

"You're not allowed through those doors," the nurse explained. "Your friend is going into surgery."

"S-Surgery?" Isabel bit her trembling lip, on the verge of tears again. The nurse started to explain what they were going to do to Rosaia, but Isabel couldn't focus on the woman's words, unsteady on her feet as the pain in her head flared.

"Come with me," the nurse said, ushering Isabel to an empty bed. "You need to be tended to."

"No, you d-don't understand!" she whined. "I-I can't lose her, t-too."

"The doctors will do everything they can to save your friend." The nurse sat Isabel down on the bed and started rummaging through the drawers of the nearby supply cart. "In the meantime, we need to take care of you. Is there anyone you need to call?"

The person she'd call was in surgery. She didn't have anyone left besides Rosaia. Everyone she loved was dead… well, everyone except one other person.

Isabel nodded, and the nurse reached behind her to the phone on the wall next to the bed, handing it to Isabel. Her hands shook as she dialed a number she'd had committed to memory for a while now. The line rang a few times before it was answered, a familiar voice reaching her ears from the other side.

"Heeeelllo? Who is this?"

"A-Alistair…" she mumbled, trying to keep it together long enough to speak to him.

"Izzy? What's going on? Why don't I recognize the number you're calling from?"

"It's a h-hospital phone."

She heard him gasp. "The hospital? Isabel, are you all right? Please tell me you're all right," he said, his voice cracking.

"I'm fine. There w-was an accident… Rosaia…" She choked back a sob, and Alistair tried to calm her over the phone.

"Shh, it'll be fine. I'm coming to you right now," he said, the sound of his clothes rustling as he moved around in the background. "I'll be there soon, I promise."

"No!"

"You don't want me to come?"

"I do, I-I just… p-please be careful," she whispered. She wouldn't be able to handle him getting into a car accident, too—especially if it was because he was coming for her. She's caused enough accidents…

"Always," he replied, his voice soft. "I'm leaving now, so I'm going to hang up, okay?"

"Okay."

"Just hang in there, Izzy, you can do it," he said before hanging up. She sniffled, handing the phone back to the nurse. She hung it up before starting to tend to Isabel's injuries. She just sat there, trying to push all the bad memories away as the nurse poked and prodded at her.

The nurse had just finished up when Alistair came running into the emergency room. As soon as his eyes landed on her they grew wide, and he immediately came to her side, pulling her into a hug. She hugged him back, relishing in the brief moment of comfort it brought her. Alistair pressed a kiss to her forehead before addressing the nurse.

"Is she all right?"

"Her wrist is sprained and she's got a concussion as well as a few other scrapes and bruises. But she's going to be fine," the nurse said.

"Thank you for taking care of her," he replied, and the nurse nodded before informing them that they could wait out Rosaia's surgery in the waiting room. Alistair helped Isabel over to one of the vacant seats, taking the one right at her side. "You're still shaking," he murmured, attempting to hold her.

She shrugged away from him, biting her lip as she shook her head. "This is all my fault."

"No, it's not," he stated firmly. "None of this is your fault."

"Yes it is!" she shouted, blinking back tears. "Don't you get it? I'm _cursed_! I'm a _death magnet_! Everyone I love dies!" Her chest heaved as she broke down into another fit of sobs, Alistair immediately pulling her into his arms. She held him tight, burying her face into the crook of his neck as she wailed, and he rubbed her back, whispering words of comfort to her. " _I_ was the one that wanted to go out," she spluttered, gulping for air. "She's going to die because of _me_ , just like _they_ did."

"Rosaia's not going to die," he muttered into her hair. "That girl's as tough as nails, it's going to take a lot more than a car accident to kill her."

"You d-didn't see her," Isabel forced out, lifting her face to meet his, her eyes wide with fear. "She was s-so broken and there was so m-much blood… M-My family… they…" She couldn't say it, and Alistair nodded, knowing what she was trying to say. She'd only just recently told him exactly what happened that night, and he patiently listened to every vivid, gory detail—details that still haunted her dreams at night. He knew what she'd gone through and how she blamed herself for it, even though it had been a drunk driver that caused the accident.

"Izzy, it's going to be okay."

Isabel shook her head. "You d-don't know that," she breathed. "You and her are a-all I have left. I can't l-lose anyone else, Alistair, I _can't_."

"Rosaia will be fine, I know it," he said, gently cupping her face with his hand, his thumb wiping away her tears. "And I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'll be here for you as long as you need."

She didn't realize how much of a relief it would be to hear him say that. She was a complete mess and he wasn't shying away from helping her hold herself together. He didn't have to be there, but he was, because he _chose_ to be. He'd always been there for her, ever since they met, no matter what. There were no words for Isabel to explain just how much that meant to her. She tried to _show_ him, closing the distance between them and pressing her lips to his, holding nothing back.

After the kiss broke, Alistair rested his forehead against hers, nuzzling their faces together. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome."

Isabel took a deep breath and laid her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. He took her un-splinted hand in his own, lacing their fingers together as they began the long wait through Rosaia's surgery. Isabel was still a mess, her memories and fears haunting her, but Alistair talked her through it and made bad jokes at the expense of the others in the hospital to try and make her feel better.

After what seemed like forever, their waiting finally ended, and a surgeon came into the waiting room to inform them of the success or failure of the surgery. Isabel gripped Alistair's hand like a vice as they walked over to the doctor, dread settling in the pit of her stomach. He started talking about the surgery, but all she could hear was the words of another doctor, telling her that her parents were dead.

"If she makes it through the night, she should make a full recovery," the surgeon concluded.

"Can we see her?" Alistair asked, and the doctor directed them to where she was.

The sight of Rosaia unconscious, wires and tubes connecting her to various machines brought tears to Isabel's eyes again. She moved to Rosaia's bedside, gently brushing her short, red hair from her face.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled. "Please don't die." Alistair held her as they watched her chest slowly rise and fall, the steady rhythm of her heart monitor the only sound in the room. Nurses came in to check her periodically, one of them handing Isabel her friend's personal effects. Rosaia's phone beeped, alerting them to multiple missed calls and texts… all from Zevran.

Isabel's stomach dropped at the thought of telling him what happened—that it was her fault that Rosaia was lying in a hospital bed, her life on the line. Alistair called the other man himself, informing him of the situation.

It wasn't long until Zevran arrived, eyes wide at the sight of Rosaia. Isabel could see the pain on his face and the terror in his eyes, a new wave of guilt crashing over her.

"Is she… going to make it?" he asked, his voice eerily quiet.

"They won't know for sure until morning," Alistair answered.

Zevran nodded, pulling a chair up so he could sit by her bedside. He didn't take his eyes off her as he took her hand and started to speak to her in Italian, his normally smooth voice strained with emotion. The three of them sat by her side and waited for a sign that she was going to make it. She _had_ to wake up…

It was going to be a long night.


	3. That Time of the Month

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair runs an errand for Isabel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Leif, Talia, and Rosaia are not mine.

Alistair liked to think he was a pretty good boyfriend… especially when it came to taking care of Isabel during _that time of the month_. It didn't take long for him to learn that she wasn't very pleasant during those times, but, after a few months, he had her figured out.

He didn't take her cutting remarks to heart, since she was prone to mood swings—most of them involving tears or anger. He'd come to understand that "Don't fucking touch me, you idiot," really meant, "Please don't touch me because my breasts hurt." He always had a supply of ice cream and other sweets at the ready for when she would get cravings. Any time she'd get a headache or cramps, he'd be there waiting with pain medicine and a warm compress. He even drew her hot baths and rubbed her back.

Alistair was prepared for everything… at least that's what he'd thought. He should have known things were too good to be true. Maybe then he wouldn't have ended up standing in the middle of the local store, staring at a vast array of… _tampons_.

It was the one thing he wasn't prepared for. Granted, it was arguably the most important thing involved with his girlfriend and her time of the month, but he'd never worried about it before. Isabel _always_ had a supply stocked in her bathroom closet.

Except for now, of course.

After a brief meltdown that may or may not have involved having pillows thrown at him, Alistair had rushed over to the store to restock. He strolled past all the aisles, reading the signs above them to figure out where he was going. He finally located his target upon finding the aisle labeled "Feminine Hygiene."

He hesitated, but forced himself to go down the aisle, coming face to face with a variety of different products. God help him, he didn't know what he was supposed to get.

Who knew there were so many different options for a woman during that time of the month? There were even different _brands_ of products. How was he supposed to know what brand Isabel used? Or… god help him… what _size_? Since when did they have different sizes, anyway?

Alistair could always call her and ask. He'd probably get yelled at, but it would be better than going back empty handed. She'd probably accuse him of neglecting her needs for not knowing what to get, which obviously wasn't the case. _He_ wasn't a woman, it wasn't _his_ fault that he didn't know the exact type of _tampons_ she used. He didn't hover over her shoulder when she went to the bathroom to deal with… _that_. He just dealt with everything else.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention away from the many options of feminine products covering the shelves before him. Varric was casually walking down the aisle, raising a curious eyebrow at Alistair. The shorter man came to a stop right beside him, eyeing him up and down. Alistair nervously scratched the back of his head, feeling himself starting to blush. He glanced down to Varric, clearing his throat.

"Varric," he greeted.

The other professor smirked at him. "Coach Cheesy," he replied with a nod. Varric turned his attention to the array of products before him, stepping forward and grabbing a box of tampons. He nodded at Alistair once more before walking away, snickering under his breath.

 _Great_. He wondered how many other professors would know about this come Monday morning.

Shortly after Varric left, someone else came down the aisle. He thought he recognized them as a student, but he couldn't be sure. The tattooed redhead grabbed their products and left, casting a curious glace over him. They had taken a different brand than Varric had grabbed. Well, would you look at that… apparently different people had different preferences. God help him if he screwed this up.

Alistair sighed, focusing back on the shelves before him. He really didn't want to call Isabel, having been emasculated enough for one day. However, he couldn't just stand in that aisle forever—then she'd kill him for taking so damn long.

"Hey, Coach!"

He almost jumped in surprise, sliding his phone back into his pocket as he turned towards the source of the voice addressing him. Talia Brosca was standing next to him, an amused expression on her face.

"Talia," he started, swallowing hard, that blush creeping onto his cheeks again. "You need… _things_ … too?"

She laughed at him, holding up a few bags of chips and cookies. "I didn't come here for _things_ I came here for _snacks_ ," she replied. She turned her attention to the shelves, her eyes glancing over them. "Isabel must really appreciate you coming here for her. I can't imagine she's feeling very well."

"You have no idea," he muttered, eliciting more laughter from the soccer star. His eyes widened as he realized what he said. "Oh, no, please don't tell her I said that."

Talia took pity on him and nodded. "I won't." She took a deep breath and smiled at him. "Tell Isabel that I hope she feels better… and that I'm glad the gym's supply closets will be safe for the next few days." With that, the curly-haired brunette left, leaving Alistair standing in the middle of that god-forsaken aisle with his cheeks as red as a tomato.

How did he get himself into such situations? Oh, right… _Isabel_. As much as she'd weaseled her way into his heart, she was going to be the death of him.

Thankfully, things started to look up.

Rosaia turned the corner and came down the aisle, her step faltering a bit when she saw him there.

"Alistair?" she asked, her brows furrowed.

"Rosaia!" he breathed, relieved. "Thank god you're here!"

Recognition lit her face. "Isabel's on her period, isn't she?" Before he even answered, she grabbed a box of tampons from the shelf, handing it to him. " _These_ are the ones she uses, the spoiled brat." At Rosaia's remark, he glanced down to the price sticker on the box in his hands. _Of course_ Isabel would use the most expensive ones there. In his relief, he couldn't have cared less that _he_ was the one paying for them.

"Rosaia, you are a lifesaver," he said, looking back up from the precious cargo in his hands. She was grabbing her own box, holding it in her arms with something else. She saw him looking and she bristled, shifting her box of tampons so it was covering whatever else she had grabbed… which looked like a pregnancy test. Since when was Rosaia dating anyone? He'd ask Isabel about it later, because in that moment he needed to get back to her as quickly as possible. "Thank you!"

"No problem," she said, shifting on her feet uncomfortably. "Just go before she has your head."

He nodded and darted off, _finally_ leaving the Feminine Hygiene aisle. If he were lucky, he'd never have to go there again.

Alistair forced himself to avoid taking a quick trip down the cheese aisle like he did every time he came there, instead paying for the tampons right away. The cashier looked at him funny, and for the billionth time that night, Alistair blushed in embarrassment. He was starting to wish he'd never have to go to that _store_ again, forget about that _aisle_.

He drove back to Isabel's home, his girlfriend angrily storming up to him as soon as he set foot into her room.

"Dammit, Alistair!" she shouted. "What the hell took you so long? I've been waiting here _forever_!" She snatched the box of tampons from his hands and started to stomp off again before stopping, letting out a deep sigh, and turning back to face him. "Thank you," she muttered, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips. He got lost in the moment and went to pull her closer, but she shrugged away, shooting him a warning glare. "Don't touch me, everything hurts."

Isabel stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Alistair huffed a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, shaking his head and smiling to himself as he sat on the edge of her bed.

The things he did for that marvelous woman…


	4. Whistles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabel shows up to Alistair’s class after waking up to an empty bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after Isabel and Alistair have been together for a while.

Isabel entered the gym, the heels of her stilettos clacking against the finished wood floors as she walked. The sound echoed through the large space, and as soon as Alistair heard it he lifted his head from his clipboard and greeted her with the lopsided smile that made her heart melt. She smiled back at him, her grin only growing when his expression shifted to one of awe as his eyes trailed over her body. His jaw even dropped a bit.

Mission accomplished.

"Hello, dear," she chirped, and he snapped his eyes back up to her face.

"Izzy, you look… I, um… that dress…"

"I happen to think purple's my color," she replied gesturing to herself. Alistair nodded, his eyes roving over her again.

" _Yes_. Yes, it definitely is," he muttered. He shook his head and cleared his throat, glancing towards his students, some of which were eyeing her suspiciously instead of doing whatever warm-ups they were supposed to be doing. Alistair grabbed the whistle hanging from his neck and brought it up to his lips, blowing into it and ordering his students to get back to work. "What are you doing here, love?" he asked, turning his attention back to her.

Isabel took the clipboard from his hands and placed it on the bleachers before stepping up to him, pouting. "I woke up alone this morning," she said with a sigh, walking her fingers up his chest. He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm before lacing their fingers together.

"I knew you were tired and I didn't want to wake you up just because I had to get here early."

"That's very noble of you, but we didn't get to spend any quality time together last night, and I fully intended on making up for it this morning," she said suggestively.

"Really?" A blush started to creep up onto his cheeks, and she shot him a wry smile.

"Oh, yes," Isabel said, her eyes traveling down his muscular body. She bit her lip at the thought of what was hiding under his clothes… it was a damn shame he hadn't woken her up.

"Isabel?"

"Hmm?"

"You're looking at me like _that_ again," he said, and he swallowed hard when she met his gaze.

"Like what, dear?"

"Like you're picturing me naked," he grumbled, and she laughed, his cheeks burning up even more.

"That's because I _am_ picturing you naked," she said.

" _Oh_."

Isabel took a moment to appreciate the adorable blush on his handsome face before closing the distance between them. She slid her free hand up his abdomen to his chest, twirling his whistle between her fingers. Alistair inhaled sharply at her touch, his breaths coming shorter, his grip tightening on her hand that he was still holding. She absolutely _loved_ the effect she had on him.

"Alistair," she started, her voice low and seductive. "Do you know what else I'm thinking about?"

"What?" he breathed, his voice rough, amber eyes flicking down to her lips before returning to her eyes.

Isabel brought her lips to his ear, gently nibbling on his earlobe. "I want to blow your whistle… _Coach_ ," she purred, and she heard him gulp.

" _Shit_ , Izzy, I—"

He couldn't finish, a particularly loud cough interrupting them. Alistair glanced over towards the source of the sound, and as soon as he saw it was one of his students, he abruptly stepped back from Isabel, nervously scratching the back of his head.

"Emma, what can I do for you?"

"We've finished stretching, Coach," the other woman stated, her eyes narrowing at Isabel. The woman—Emma—turned her attention back to Alistair, twirling her hair around her finger and batting her eyelashes at him as she asked about what he had planned for the remainder of the class. Isabel snorted a laugh. The girl was _flirting_ with her boyfriend… and bless Alistair's soul, he didn't even notice.

When he finished enthusiastically explaining what he had planned, Isabel looped her arm through his, and he looked at her with a quirked eyebrow, confused as to what she was doing.

"You know, Ali, that sounds very exciting. I think I'll stick around and watch," she stated, reveling in the glare Emma was giving her.

"You have time?" he asked, and she waived her hand in dismissal.

"I'll make the time." She stepped forward and pressed herself against him, planting a deep kiss to his lips. It seemed he forgot they had an audience, his hand gently cupping her face as his arm twined around her waist to keep her close. When the kiss broke, Alistair smiled affectionately at her, and she couldn't help but smile back. She quickly pecked the tip of his nose before disentangling herself from him. "Now go, you have an entire class of students waiting for you," she said, shooing him away

Emma forced herself to smile now that Alistair's attention had returned to her, but as soon as he turned away to address the rest of the class she sneered at Isabel. She burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the other woman before plopping down on the bleachers beside Alistair's discarded clipboard. She fully intended on getting some work done while she waited, but she got distracted by Alistair and the way he taught his class. He was passionate about what he did, and it showed. It was one of the reasons she loved him so much.

After the class was over, Isabel strolled over to her boyfriend and dragged him over to the supply closet as the students started to file out of the gym and into the locker rooms. She shoved him inside, and as she went to close the door behind them, her gaze caught Emma's. The woman was _clearly_ unhappy about Isabel getting in the way of whatever she had planned for her gym teacher.

Isabel grinned mischievously at the other woman before locking her and Alistair in the supply closet, fully intending on showing him just what he had missed out on that morning.

She had a whistle to blow.


	5. Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair tries to make up for a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place shortly after "Whistles."  
> *Rosaia, Talia, and Yael aren't mine.

Isabel awoke slowly, rolling over to conceal her eyes from the morning sunlight filtering through the windows. She stretched out her entire body and yawned, one arm aimlessly reaching for Alistair. When she realized his side of the bed was _empty_ , she snapped her eyes open and jerked upright, glancing around his bedroom. His jacket was gone, as were his shoes and gym bag. He'd left her alone in bed _again_.

Now that she was awake, she might as well get ready for the day, even if it was a little earlier than usual. Isabel angrily huffed as she got up, changing out of the shirt she was wearing—one of Alistair's—and pulled on one of the spare dresses she kept in his closet. When she finished stomping around his room as she dressed, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand, noticing something that didn't belong.

Right next to her phone was a single red rose, a note attached to its stem. With a sigh, she read the note, two simple words etched onto it: _I'm sorry_.

Isabel rolled her eyes as she started typing out a new text to him on her phone.

_Nice apology, but it doesn't change the fact that I woke up alone. Again._

Within seconds, her phone beeped with his response. _I was running late and I didn't want to wake you._

 _You're in trouble and I expect you to make it up to me later_ , she replied.

 _I will_.

 _Good_.

…

Upon arriving at work, Isabel found yet _another_ rose waiting for her on her desk. Biting back a smile she pulled out her phone again.

_Oh, you had time to come here, but not enough time to wake me up?_

_I had it delivered_ , he texted back, and she could picture the stupid grin he most definitely had on his face.

_You're still in trouble._

…

A few hours later, Isabel anxiously pushed open the doors to the conference room F.U.'s board always met in. She took her usual seat and pretended to be working on her phone to avoid interacting with the other board members who didn't think she belonged there… especially the bastard who killed her family. It was bad enough she had to spend an entire hour in the same room as the man.

"Is there an Isabel Cousland here?" At the sound of her name, she looked up from her phone, finding a flower delivery guy with a red rose in his hands. Despite the disapproving and curious looks she was getting, she grinned as she accepted the rose from the man. She ignored everyone else in the room, opening up the little note attached to the flower.

 _Hope this helps you get through the meeting_.

She smiled to herself, her heart warming in her chest. Alistair was making it very hard to stay angry with him. In fact, any bitterness she'd felt about waking up alone had vanished the instant she read the note.

The board meeting was about to start, but she managed to send him a quick text.

_I love you._

_I know._

…

Determined to thank Alistair for all of her roses, she set off to find him in the college's local café before heading back to work. It was about time for his lunch break, and she knew he always came to get a grilled-cheese sandwich—which he argued was the best grilled-cheese sandwich he'd ever had.

Isabel's eyes scanned the café when she walked inside, but she didn't see her boyfriend. But she did see someone else she knew.

She slid into the seat opposite of everyone's favorite creative writing professor, folding her hands up and resting them on the table. Varric looked up from the papers he was grading, shooting her a smile.

"What can I do for you, Princess?"

Isabel glared at him. "You know I hate it when you call me that," she grumbled, before getting to the point. "I'm looking for Alistair."

"Coach Cheesy?" She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous nickname Varric had given her boyfriend. "He was in here getting food not too long ago. You just missed him," he finished.

"Thanks, Varric," she replied, standing up and smoothing out the skirt of her dress. "If you see him, tell him that I'm looking for him, all right?"

"You got it, Princess."

…

When Isabel returned to work, rose number four was waiting for her on her desk—with another note attached.

 _I dropped this one off myself_ , was scrawled on the paper in Alistair's familiar handwriting, as well as a winking smiley face. Shaking her head, she sat down and got to work.

…

After a ridiculous amount of work that made Isabel wish she wasn't the one running her parents' business, she returned back to F.U.'s campus for her last few appointments—and to find Alistair, who was apparently M.I.A. He hadn't answered any of her phone calls, and every time she texted him, he replied with something along the lines of "Busy, can't talk now."

Needless to say, she was getting frustrated again.

Isabel barged into Zevran's classroom, finding him and Rosaia in the middle of a conversation.

"Have you seen Alistair?" she asked, exasperated. "He's not in his office, the gym, _or_ the football field."

"I haven't seen him since I walked in on the two of you yesterday," Rosaia said dryly. Zevran snickered and Isabel rolled her eyes, letting out an irritated growl before leaving and slamming the door behind her.

…

After taking care of more work-related things, Isabel headed over to the football field again, knowing she would finally find Alistair. The team had practice and since he was an assistant coach, he _had_ to be there. He wasn't getting away this time…

… or maybe he was, since the football field was empty—no football players or coaches in sight.

Isabel was ready to give up, until she saw Talia and Cassandra walking back to the locker room together after their respective practices. They informed her the football team had just finished practice and that they had a meeting to prepare for the big game on Friday.

Isabel walked to Alistair's office as quickly as she could in heels. Somehow, he knew she'd end up there, because there was yet another red rose on his desk waiting for her, another note attached to it.

_This meeting will take forever. I won't be home until after dinner. Hopefully this rose will help?_

With a sigh, Isabel took the rose and called it a day. She had one last thing to do before she could go back to his apartment and mope until he got home.

…

As she approached Yael and Andy to discuss M.A.G.E.'s upcoming meeting with the college board, Isabel noticed something distinctly red in the med student's hands. Her jaw dropped as he presented her with another rose.

"You're kidding me," she murmured, taking the flower.

"Nope," he said, an amused smile on his face. "Alistair found me after one of my classes and asked me to give this to you."

"Is he trying to apologize for something?" Yael asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Sort of," Isabel replied, trying to hide a smile. She tenderly held the rose to her chest, focusing back on the two students in front of her. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

…

Isabel returned to Alistair's apartment later that night, all six of her roses in tow. As she arrived, she saw a delivery guy from her favorite take-out place leaving the building. _Someone_ was going to have some delicious food for dinner. Since Alistair wouldn't be home until later, she'd probably just whip up something quick for the two of them. He was easy to please—as long as it had cheese in it, he was happy.

She unlocked the door to his apartment, opening it to quite the surprise. Alistair was _home_ , a whole bouquet of red roses in his hands, and that lopsided grin of his that made her heart melt lighting up his handsome face.

"You're home," she breathed, and he nodded. With an excited giggle, she ran to him and jumped into his arms.

He held her close, burying his face in her neck. "I'm home," he muttered. Isabel pulled back and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before wrinkling her nose.

"It smells like burnt food in here," she pointed out, and Alistair laughed, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

"Well, I may have tried to cook again…"

"Ali, you didn't!"

"I did, and I, uh… burnt it, as usual." He handed her the bouquet of roses and stepped into the kitchen, gesturing to the table, completely covered in delicious food. "But, I ordered from your favorite place, instead."

Isabel met his gaze again, absolutely stunned. "You… you did all of this for me?" she asked, and he nodded.

"I wanted to make it up to you… for leaving without waking you up this morning," he said with a shrug, a tinge of a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

She huffed. "You made up for it with the third rose." He stood up straighter, pleased with his success, and she placed the roses down and smiled at him. "Thank you," she said quietly, pressing her lips to his.

When the kiss broke, he smiled down at her, his hand gently caressing her cheek. "I love you, Izzy."

"I love you, too."

They kissed again, and before they could get carried away, Alistair pulled back, clearing his throat. "What do you say we dig into that food before it gets cold?"

Isabel grinned at him. "Let's eat."


	6. The Annual Spring Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabel and Alistair attend a fancy party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Isabel is the only OC that belongs to me.

Alistair hated suits. They were uncomfortable and restricting, not to mention _expensive_. He hadn't worn a suit since he graduated from F.U., and yet, here he was, wearing one now…

"Alistair, stop grimacing at yourself in the mirror and zip up my dress," Isabel demanded, and he did as requested. Once zipped up, she turned around, taking a deep breath and shaking out her hair that she'd spent almost an hour doing. A sly smile spread across her face as he gaped at her, his jaw dropped at how stunning she looked.

The dark purple, floor-length gown she wore fit her perfectly. It showed just the right amount of skin, and brought out the green of her eyes. Her hair, nails, and makeup were perfect, as always, and she even wore his favorite perfume. She smelled good and she looked fantastic—he didn't expect anything less.

"So, yes to the dress, then?" she asked, giggling.

"Yes, definitely yes," he breathed, nodding. "You look beautiful, Izzy."

"Thank you." She stepped up to him and grabbed both ends of the tie around his neck, starting to tie it. "You look very handsome yourself," she said, focusing on her task.

"I don't know about that."

Isabel finished the tie and smoothed out the lapels of his jacket before taking a step back and taking him in. She bit her lip and her eyes widened the slightest bit as they raked over him. "God, Ali, you really clean up well."

"Izz—"

"I've seen a lot of men in suits in my time, and you may just take the title of 'best dressed,"' she said.

"You're biased," he pointed out, and she laughed.

"Maybe, but it doesn't matter. You still look _fantastic_. I'm going to have to keep my eye on you or else that evil wench is going to try to sweep you away from me."

"Who's the wench again?"

"Sarah, the one who used to be my friend but hates me because I supposedly stole her boyfriend," she answered, running her fingers through his hair to straighten it out.

"Right."

"It's a complete load of crap," she said, gently caressing his face as she pulled her hand away. She sighed, smiling at him, and he smiled back. "Ready to go?"

"No."

Isabel snorted a laugh and grabbed his hand leading him out of his— _their_ —apartment.

It wasn't long before the two of them arrived at F.U.'s Annual Spring Gala, the event Isabel called "ostentatious, but necessary to attend" if you were on the board. He didn't get how the whole "you have to attend if you're on the board" thing worked—it was a rich person thing, and he was nowhere near rich.

Isabel made polite conversation with the other guests, while he stood by her side and tried not to tug at his collar, lest she start glaring at him. Every time one of the servers passed by with a little platter of hors d'oeuvres, he'd grab a little cheese cube to munch on while they made the rounds through the guests. Isabel did most of the talking, but he'd throw in statement or two when he wasn't too preoccupied with the cheese.

As Isabel dragged him across the large dining hall, Alistair caught a quick glimpse of Zevran and Rosaia on the dance floor, the redhead scowling as she _tried_ to dance with her boyfriend. It was quite a sight to behold, and if he wasn't afraid of getting punched, he would have brought it up the next time they spoke.

They weren't the only familiar face he spotted in the crowd. Varric and Aysunn were there, and Isabel fawned over the "gorgeous" and "lovely" teal dress the woman was wearing. Dorian was being his usual charming self, having dragged along a student who seemed he would much rather be hiding away from the crowd. They said a quick hello to Talia and Cassandra, the rugby player looking about as pleased to be wearing a suit as Alistair did. That singing, redheaded cheerleader was also in attendance, along with a dark-haired student he recognized from around campus—one of the Hawkes, if he wasn't mistaken.

There were also numerous M.A.G.E members at the party that Alistair recognized from the few meetings Isabel had taken him to. According to her, Finn looked "disastrous," but Olavi and his girlfriend, who was wearing a "stunning" gold dress, looked fantastic, and should have been the ones to dress Finn. While Yael wasn't in attendance herself, her boyfriend was, looking very uncomfortable among his fellow fraternity brothers. Solona and Daylen were also in attendance, with another dark-haired man in tow.

Alistair recognized the man as Nathaniel Howe, and he tensed, grabbing Isabel's hand and tugging her to the opposite side of the room to avoid a confrontation with him. He doubted Nathaniel knew what a snake his father was, but Alistair couldn't be too careful. When Isabel had first brought up going to the Gala, she said it would be the first time she'd be attending without her family. It was why he'd agreed to suffer wearing a suit to go with her—that and the fact that she could be _very_ persuasive.

In his effort to keep Isabel out of an uncomfortable and potentially hostile situation, Alistair accidentally dragged her right into right into Nathaniel's father… the very _last_ person she needed to run into.

"Miss Cousland," he greeted, sneering at her.

Isabel stood tall in the face of the man who'd gotten away with killing her family, inclining her head to the man. "Mister Howe," she replied, her voice steady, concealing the rage and hatred she felt towards him. If Alistair were in her place, he'd probably have punched the guy—but unfortunately Isabel had lots of practice in dealing with the man because of all the board meetings they both attended.

"I see you decided to show your face at this event despite the way you've been handling your parents' company and their seat on the board," Rendon Howe stated. "I doubt your parents would approve of your decisions," he glanced to Alistair, frowning, "business or otherwise."

Isabel tightened her grip on his hand at the outright insult, and he rubbed his thumb over the back of her fingers to try and soothe her. She hid her emotions like a pro, but Alistair knew her well enough to see that she was fuming inside. He needed to get her out of there _fast_.

"Well, look at that, I think they're about to bring out the real food!" Alistair interjected, pulling Isabel away from her family's murderer. He led her to the small, secluded area by the restrooms, and as soon as they were alone, she let out a shaky breath, blinking back tears.

"I hate him, I hate him so much," she said between heaving breaths, trying not to cry.

"I know you do, love," he murmured, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away loose tears.

"He killed them and he got away with it," she muttered. She sniffled, starting to shake. "He took them away from me and now I'm all alone."

Alistair pulled her into his embrace as she started to sob, unable to hold back her emotions anymore. "You're not alone, Izzy, you have me," he said against the top of her head. He rubbed her back and whispered words of love and comfort to her as she cried.

He continued to hold her close even after she calmed down, until she finally lifted her head from his chest and met his gaze, sniffling.

"Thank you, Ali," she said quietly. "I don't know what I would do without you." She let out a deep breath. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," he replied, wiping away her tears again. He shot her a lopsided grin and she quirked a curious eyebrow at him. "You look like a raccoon."

"Dammit!" she shouted, quickly opening her purse and digging out the mirror she kept inside. Her eyes widened when she saw her ruined makeup in her reflection, and she gasped, appalled at herself. "Oh, god, it's _horrible_."

"You know you can just do it over, right?" he asked with a chuckle, and she glared at him for laughing at her.

"Yes, of course I know _that_ ," she snapped. "There's just no way I'm going to be able to do my eyeliner that perfect again."

"Well, while you sit in the bathroom for a half-hour re-doing it, I'll grab some more of those delicious cheese cubes, and then when you're done, we can try to have some fun," he proposed. "I'll even dance with you."

"You can't dance," she said with a giggle.

"I'll gladly suffer through a dance for you," he said, and she grinned, nodding. She went to step into the bathroom, but he caught her hand and pulled her up against his chest, pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

"What was _that_ for?" she asked, breathless.

"I like it when you smile, raccoon eyes and all," he replied, and not only did she smile, she _laughed_ again, too. Alistair smiled back, pleased with himself. Isabel sighed and affectionately trailed her fingers down his face.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

"Take your time. I've got plenty of cheese cubes to hunt down."

She snorted a laugh and planted a kiss to his cheek before heading into the bathroom. Alistair watched her go, grinning like the lovesick fool that he was.


	7. Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair worries he’s not good enough for Isabel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A direct continuation of the previous chapter.)

Once her little breakdown was over and her makeup reapplied, Isabel actually had an enjoyable time at the Gala thanks to her boyfriend. Alistair kept her mind off the fact that her family wasn't with her at the event for the first time in her life. They avoided the _bastard_ that caused it all, and everything went well.

Isabel even started to get _frisky_ after a while. It wasn't her fault, though; Alistair was dressed up, and the suit she picked out for him looked absolutely fantastic on him… so fantastic she wanted to rip it off his body and revel in the delights hiding underneath. Her desires had to wait until after the party was over, since they couldn't risk getting caught in a storage closet at such a fancy event—though she did bring up the idea a few times just to see Alistair blush.

It took her all of three seconds to pull him into a frenzied kiss once they were in the privacy of the car she'd hired for the night. He didn't object when she hiked her dress up and straddled his lap, their hands wandering as they heatedly kissed. They were so distracted by each other that they almost didn't realize it when they arrived back home.

The elevator ride up to their floor was a torturous one. Isabel would have pounced on Alistair as soon as the doors closed if the friendly old lady from their floor hadn't gotten on right after them. She sighed in irritation, trying not to glare at the woman who was trying, and failing, to conceal the way she eyed their disheveled appearances. When the elevator finally opened up on their floor, the old woman slowly waddled out into the hallway, Isabel biting her lip to prevent herself from telling her to _hurry the fuck up_.

The two of them civilly walked to their apartment hand in hand, and as soon as the old lady had entered her own apartment, Alistair had Isabel pressed up against the door of theirs, his lips busy trailing kisses down her throat while he fumbled with his keys. She did _not_ know he could multitask like _that_.

They barreled through the door, laughing as they almost tripped over each other. Bear came running up to them, happily wagging his stubby tail as he greeted them. After a few pets and face-licks, Isabel told the dog to be a good boy and "guard the door," and he did as he was told, obediently lying down next to the front door. She turned her attention back to Alistair, grinning mischievously at him as she kicked off her heels and grabbed his hand, leading him into their bedroom.

She closed the door behind them—she didn't want Bear jumping up on the bed in the middle of things like he did that one time—and turned around. Alistair stepped up behind her, his chest to her back, gathering her hair and placing it over her shoulder, the light brush of his fingers against her skin sending tingles down her spine. His lips found her neck again as he unzipped the back of her dress and pulled the straps off her shoulders, the dress sliding off her body and pooling at her feet.

Isabel turned around and smirked when she saw him swallow hard as his eyes raked over her near-naked body. He stared at her bra, his mouth hanging open just a bit, which prompted her to giggle.

"Isabel," he started, to preoccupied with staring to form words. "You… you're wearing…"

"This is your favorite set, right?" she asked, gesturing to the lacy, black bra and panties she wore. Alistair nodded, his amber eyes darkened as he reached for her. She clicked her tongue, _tsk_ -ing him, and he dropped his hands back to his sides. "It's hardly fair that I'm standing here almost naked and you're still in all these clothes," she purred, sliding her hands up his shirt and over his shoulders, pushing his jacket off. She reached up and pressed a teasing kiss to his lips before pulling away, stepping out of his reach.

"You little minx," he growled, and she giggled again as she sat on the edge of the bed, watching him.

" _Strip_ ," she commanded, and he obliged, his amber gaze on hers the entire time. Alistair practically ripped off his half-unbuttoned shirt, tearing his belt from his pants before kicking off his shoes and pulling his pants and underwear off in one swift motion.

It was Isabel's turn to stare, and she did, unabashedly, her eyes roving over every muscle on his athletic body. If he had caught her looking at him like that at any other time, he would have blushed, but in that moment he was too hot and bothered to care.

He advanced on her, capturing her lips in a hungry kiss and crawling over her as she settled back onto the bed. Their hands traveled, roaming over each other's skin, desperate to feel each other as their bodies intertwined and moved against one another. Isabel's underwear was gone within seconds, haphazardly tossed to the side, Alistair's hands sliding over her newly exposed skin. His lips followed his hands, stopping to lavish attention to every place on her body that made her moan, until he found himself between her legs. He built her up and brought her tumbling over the edge, his name on her lips as she tensed and shuddered, pleasure radiating throughout her body.

After a brief recovery, Isabel tugged him back up and kissed him hard, moaning into his mouth at the taste of herself in his kiss. She rolled him onto his back and straddled him, scraping her fingernails down his chest and abdomen before soothing the raised, red marks with her lips and tongue. Pressing one last, tender kiss to his lips, she sat up, positioning herself over him.

She bit her lip and gasped, her eyes falling closed as she sank down onto him in one fluid motion. Alistair hissed, his eyes shut tight, fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise. For a long moment, neither of them moved, enjoying the simple pleasure of being joined together.

"Isabel," he breathed, his voice rough as he quickly sat up, pressing his lips to hers. She hooked her legs around him and wrapped her arms around her neck, his strong arms holding her close as they kissed. Locked in an embrace, they slowly started rocking against each other, panting and gasping as they moved. The feeling of him inside her, the closeness of his sweaty skin sliding along hers, his familiar scent, his deep moans and grunts… all of it only served to drive her closer to the edge, pleasure building up inside her as she got closer to her peak.

Finally it was all too much, and they desperately clutched each other as they reached their end, crying out each other's names one last time. Isabel rested her forehead against his as they recovered, Alistair nuzzling his face against hers. He lay back, bringing her with him, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck as he hugged her to his chest. They were quiet, content to simply be in each other's presence, their frantic breaths and heartbeats slowly returning to their normal, steady pace.

"I had a feeling the night would end like this," Isabel murmured, lifting her face to meet his gaze.

He smiled, that lopsided grin of his that she loved, and she lightly ran her fingers over his jaw. "Is that why you wore the fancy lingerie?"

She snorted a laugh and nodded. " _Of course_ ," she said. "As soon as I saw you in that suit, I wanted to rip it off of you. I figured I'd prepare."

He chuckled, and she propped her head up, gazing down at him with a smile. His eyes caught onto something, and his brow furrowed as his hands stopped gently rubbing her back. Alistair brushed her hair over her shoulder before running his thumb over the skin on her neck.

"What is it?" she asked, attempting to see for herself.

"I accidentally gave you a hickey," he replied with a frown. "I don't think your clothes are going to cover it."

"That's what makeup is for," she said with a giggle. "Though I might just leave it alone. When the wench sees it at the board meeting on Monday, she'll be jealous that I had a rather fantastic weekend and she didn't." She snorted. "Serves her right for hating me for no reason." She expected a joke or a blush or _something_ , not a deepened frown as he stared at the blemish on her neck. Something was wrong. "Ali, what is it?"

"Do you think your parents would have approved of me?" he asked, his amber eyes snapping up to hers, a disheartened look in his eyes.

Isabel knit her brows together, shocked he would ask such a thing—and then she remembered the incident at the Gala and everything made sense. "You don't truly believe what that _bastard_ said, do you?"

"Izzy," he said, sighing. "I'm just a lowly gym teacher. You're in charge of an entire corporation and nameless charities, _and_ you have a seat on the board… you're important."

"So are you!" She shook her head, caressing his face with her hand, forcing him to keep looking at her. "I know I can get wrapped up in my appearance, but I am _not_ ashamed of being with you. I don't care what anyone says, it's not going to change how I feel about you."

"Even if your parents disapproved? If they were alive, would you go against their wishes?"

"Yes, I would" she said confidently. "But that doesn't matter, because they would have loved you."

"You don't know—"

"Yes, I do, they were _my_ parents," she interrupted. "You're kind and caring and you make me laugh… God, Ali, I hadn't laughed for months after they died, until I met you. I didn't feel anything but oppressive sorrow and guilt, and without you I'd still be stuck going to the gym every morning with my bow, trying to hide away from the world." She sighed, biting her lip as she blinked away the tears in her eyes. "You helped me pick up the pieces of my broken heart. I needed a push, and you gave it to me, and there's no way I can ever thank you for that."

"Oh, Izzy," he said, cupping her face in his hand. "You don't need to thank me. Your love is all I could ever ask for."

"And you have it," she breathed, leaning into his touch. "You have all of it, I… I love you _so much_ , Alistair."

He nodded, a small smile on his lips. "I love you, too." Alistair lifted his head and closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers in a tender kiss. Isabel could feel how much he loved her in that kiss, and in return, she tried to convey just how much he meant to her.

When the kiss broke he grinned at her, and she huffed, beaming back at him. He pressed a final kiss to her forehead before she settled back against him, nestling her head against his chest, his hands resuming their gentle journey up and down her back. The sound of his heartbeat soothed her, lulling her closer and closer to sleep.

"Isabel?" he whispered, unsure if she was still awake.

"Hmm?"

"You should cover up the hickey… with makeup… just to be safe."

She smiled. "As you wish, love."


	8. Green With Envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabel makes Alistair jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Garrett and Aysunn aren't mine.

Isabel ignored the sounds of the party around her, blocking out the music and the chatter of people's voices as she typed up an email for work on her phone. She didn't know how she ended up there when she had a mountain of work to do. It probably had something to do with the puppy-dog eyed look Alistair had turned on her—the look that made it near impossible to say no to the man.

So there she was, stuck at a party while trying to get some work done. It wasn't exactly how she planned her evening.

The couch dipped next to her, and she tore her gaze away from her phone, expecting to find Alistair returning to sit with her. She couldn't have been more wrong.

"Garrett," she greeted, retuning her focus to her phone as she continued typing away.

"Don't tell me you're _working_ at a _party_ ," the brunet said dramatically. "I thought you were more fun than _that_."

"I'll have you know that I am _very_ fun," she declared, her eyes not leaving the screen as she typed. "If I didn't have all this work to do, I'd be the most fun person here."

"Put the phone down and prove it."

Isabel stopped typing and met Garrett's gaze, the brunet waggling his eyebrows at her. "No," she said simply, shooting him a glare before returning to her work.

"Ugh, you remind me of Andy," Garrett whined. "Did you know we went to a club and he started writing a paper? _A paper!_ "

"It's such a _shame_ he didn't devote _every_ minute of his attention to you," she replied sarcastically.

"Ouch! That one hurt, Isabel," he said, bringing his hand to his chest in mock offense. "How do you sleep at night?"

Isabel looked up from her work, fixing him with a mischievous grin. "On silk sheets. Rolling naked in money."

Garrett's eyebrows shot up. " _Really?_ "

"No, of course not," she said. "Well, not the rolling in money part. The rest of it, yes." Garrett slowly nodded, a foolish grin spreading across his face. "You're picturing me naked now, aren't you?"

" _You_ brought it up!"

She sighed, shaking her head and returning her attention back to her work. "Just don't bring it up in front of Alistair. I don't think he'd appreciate it."

"You think he'd get jealous?"

"I don't know. I've actually never seen him jealous."

"You should try it," Garret said. "Andy's pretty hot when he's jealous."

Isabel snorted a laugh. "You say that with such conviction. I take it that sort of thing happens a lot?"

"Sort of," he replied, a devious grin on his face.

She laughed, rolling her eyes as she tried to return to her work… but a certain _idea_ had sparked in the back of her mind. She didn't know what Alistair was like when he was jealous… but she could certainly find out.

"Garrett," she started, putting her phone away for good. "You wanted me to prove that I'm fun… are you willing to help me out with that?"

He quirked a curious eyebrow at her. "What did you have in mind?"

"Just a little game," she said, her gaze flicking over to where Alistair stood speaking to Varric and Aysunn. She found Andy across the room, in a conversation with Bethany and Merrill. "What do you say to finding out which one of our boyfriends gets more jealous? Who would cave in first given a certain _situation_ , Alistair or Andy?"

"You're on," Garrett replied, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

"Good." In one swift movement, Isabel sat up and tugged the skirt of her dress up, swinging her leg over his and straddling his lap. She loosely draped her arms over his shoulders, smirking as the grin dropped off his face, his eyes widening the slightest bit.

"You really weren't kidding about this, were you?" he muttered, taking a moment to assess the situation.

"Nope," she replied. Garrett grabbed her thighs and started to sit up, but Isabel wasn't about to hand the reins over to him. "I don't think so," she said, placing her hand on his chest and pressing him back against the couch. "I like to be in charge," she purred.

"Alistair goes for that?"

"You'd be surprised at what he likes." Isabel narrowed her eyes at him, studying him. "Do _you_ go for that, Garrett? Are you uncomfortable?"

"No!" he said quickly, holding her gaze. "You're not the first woman I've had in my lap."

"No, but I'm the _prettiest_ woman you've had in your lap," she said, batting her eyelashes. She leaned in towards him, her fingers tracing over the collar of his shirt.

Garrett huffed, clearly having underestimated her. "I'll play along," he replied, sliding his hands up to her ass and scooting her closer to him.

"Then it looks like I found the right man for the job," she murmured. "But you'd better let go of my ass in the next five seconds or you're going to regret it." Isabel _accidentally_ scratched him while toying with his shirt, and he hissed, sliding his hands up to rest on her hips. "Much better."

"All right. I can see why Alistair likes this," he pointed out, and she laughed.

"Is he looking yet?"

"Oh, he's looking."

Isabel glanced back over to where her boyfriend was, his mouth hanging open as he watched her, a half-eaten cube of cheese in his hand. She bit back a laugh before turning her attention to Andy. He was _glowering_ at the two of them.

"I think I'm going to win," she whispered in Garrett's ear. "Your boyfriend is practically scowling at us."

He went to see for himself, but Isabel stopped him from turning his head with her finger, keeping his attention on her. "Don't look now, he's coming over here," she muttered, keeping her gaze on Andy out of the corner of her eye.

"Isabel, do you mind if I have a word with my boyfriend?" Andy growled a moment later. With that, she shot Garrett a victory grin and sat up, climbing off of him.

"Go right ahead," she said cheerfully, straightening out her skirt. Andy took his hand and dragged him off, Garrett winking at her over his shoulder. She giggled before turning around, finding herself face to face with a very unpleased Alistair.

"What was that?" he asked, unable to mask the anger in his voice.

"It was nothing, Ali," she replied, placing her hand on his chest. "Garrett and I were just having a little contest to see which of our boyfriends would get jealous first."

"So you were _trying_ to make me jealous?" Alistair said, narrowing his eyes at her.

Isabel moved closer to him, watching his reaction carefully. "Did it work?"

"What do you think?" he replied, practically growling. Isabel bit her lip, trying to ignore the things his voice was doing to her.

"Well, are you going to do something about it?" she asked seductively, teasingly sliding her hand down his chest.

Alistair swallowed hard, his eyes boring into hers. He stared at her a moment before a devious grin started to spread across his face. "Yes, I _am_ ," he said, grabbing her wrist, pulling her hand from his chest and jerking her forward so their bodies were pressed close.

"I like where this is going already," Isabel breathed before his lips claimed hers in a passionate kiss that left her breathless.

"We need to go," he murmured, and she nodded enthusiastically.

They couldn't get home fast enough.

…

Some time later, they lay together in bed, completely spent, silk sheets twisted around their bare, intertwined bodies.

"Remind me to thank Garrett for putting that idea in my head," Isabel muttered between panting breaths as she cuddled to his side. Alistair closed his arms around her tight, his wild heartbeat thumping in her ears.

"Just don't… don't ever do something like that again," he replied.

"But how am I supposed to get you jealous enough to ravage me?" she asked. "Because I quite liked that. We should _definitely_ do it again."

He laughed, the sound rumbling throughout his chest. "I'll ravage you anytime you like, love, all you have to do is ask."

"Mmm, I'll keep that in mind," she said, snuggling closer to him. As she fell asleep to the sound of Alistair's steadying heartbeat, Isabel wondered if Garrett's night had turned out as fantastic as hers had.


	9. Ice Bucket Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabel and Alistair do the ALS ice bucket challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [a post on tumblr](http://daydreamsonacloudyday.tumblr.com/post/96224002853/imagine-your-oc-imagine-your-oc-doing-the-als) about your OCs doing the ALS ice bucket challenge.

"Just dump it fast, okay?" Isabel said, biting her lip as she impatiently tapped her foot on the ground.

"You got it, love," Alistair replied from behind her, the sloshing sound of water and ice accompanying his response. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the incoming cold, mentally cursing Rosaia for challenging her to do this—and Alistair for encouraging it.

"Ali, are you—" She didn't finish her question, a high-pitched shriek leaving her lips as he dumped the bucket of ice over her head. It was _freezing_ , and she was shivering in an instant, wrapping her arms around herself to try and keep warm as her teeth chattered.

"I'm so sorry, Izzy," Alistair said, biting back laughter as he grabbed a thick towel and wrapped it around her. He pulled her into a hug as he dried her, rubbing warmth back into her body.

"T-that was h-horrible," she muttered, her teeth still clacking together. "I'm n-never d-doing something like that a-again."

"It's for a good cause," he pointed out, tossing the towel aside, and she snorted.

"A c-cause I already d-donated to, you b-big oaf."

Alistair chuckled, wrapping her up in a fleece blanket as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. Once he knew she was thoroughly warmed, he pulled back, smiling lopsidedly at her. "My turn," he announced, and Isabel shook her head.

"You're going to hate it."

"I'll be _fine_."

"Sure you will," she drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Alistair picked up the other bucket of ice, standing tall as he mentally prepared to dump it over his head. As soon as he did it, an almost girlish squeal erupted from his throat, and he tossed the bucket aside, starting to hop and jump around to warm himself back up.

" _OH GOD_!" he shouted, shaking as he shivered. "THAT IS COLD! SWEET MOTHER MARY THAT'S _FREEZING_!"

Isabel burst into laughter, taking another towel and shuffling over to her boyfriend, throwing it at him from her cocoon of warmth. "I warned you," she pointed out, still laughing as he swiped the towel from her and hurriedly dried his body. When he finished, he grabbed the other fleece blanket and wrapped himself in it as he did for her, stumbling over to her side.

"You're right, love. Never again," he breathed, poking a hand out of the blanket to shut off the video camera they had set up on a tripod. He turned to face her and opened his arms, and she stepped into his embrace, his arms closing around her, wrapping his blanket around the both of them.

"Now that that's over with, we should go take a hot shower," Isabel murmured into the crook of his neck.

Alistair hummed in agreement. "And then we'll pop some popcorn and watch a movie? I picked up some more candy when I bought the ice…"

"That is the best idea I've heard all day," she sighed, smiling to herself.

With that, they grabbed the camera, towels, and buckets, hobbling back into their building, looking forward to a warm, cozy night together.


End file.
